


What A Shame

by carryonthefamilybusiness



Series: What A Shame [1]
Category: Avengers, Marvel
Genre: Drug Abuse, Gen, Kidnapping, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carryonthefamilybusiness/pseuds/carryonthefamilybusiness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Natasha's old handlers get their hands on them once more. When Clint finds out that SHIELD isn't doing anything to find them or putting the team together, he takes it into his own hands to go look for them. The only problem is when he does, he finds himself caught as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

They told him not to go. SHIELD told him it wasn’t worth the risk, but he chose to ignore orders. Natasha and Bucky had been recaptured by their masters while on a mission together. Clint couldn’t agree with letting them stay captured. Someone had to do something, someone had to try to save them. No one else was stepping up. Hell, Clint was positive the other Avengers had no idea what was going on. The only reason he knew was his connection with SHIELD. Instead of informing everyone else, Clint decided to take it in his own hands.

It took a bit of time to pull the right strings and convincing to have Tony Stark agree to pay for the trip. Clint claimed it was of dire importance and SHIELD couldn’t find out. That seemed like enough fuel to get Tony interested and willing to help. Before he left, he told Tony if he didn’t hear back from him in 3 months to take care of everything at his house. Tony opened his mouth to pry as to why he wouldn’t return, but the look on Clint’s face told him it was serious. Standing there on the roof was where Clint and Tony Stark said their last good byes and shook each other’s hands their final time. “Take care of yourself, Legolas.”  
The flight felt like it took forever, or maybe it was just the nerves. The whole time Clint stayed awake using the internet to try to track down Natasha or Bucky’s whereabouts. After hours with nothing, Jarvis took over the search to let Clint get a few hours sleep. When he woke, he had an address with the most recent location they were spotted. That was where he was headed.

The first week there was no sign of anyone. Jarvis kept Clint updated on any signs of the two he was searching for. The end of the week came and he was beginning to worry he wouldn’t find them when Jarvis sent his tablet an update. The location was 20 minutes away and there was live feed. There was no hesitation as Clint took off to the place.

The last thing Clint expected was it to be a trap. How the Russians had known he was searching for the two missing people never revealed itself, but he had walked right into a trap before he realized it. Crouching on a roof with a pair of binoculars, he could see Bucky and Natasha walking with a couple of older men. Measuring out the distance, Clint was confident he could make the shots. Pop the masters off quickly and give the other two a chance to flee. It seemed like the perfect plan. Clint had his bow out and an arrow docked, pulled back against his cheek as he waited for the perfect chance at the first shot.

Just as his fingers were about to release the string there was a sharp pain in his neck. His arm relaxed and the bow was lowered as he moved his hand to his neck. Something stuck out and he pulled it out with a small flinch. A dart. The next handful of minutes felt like hours as he felt the drugs take effect. Stumbling, Clint started to lower himself to the ground. His eyes blinked quickly as they tried to focus. Suddenly two men wearing suits appeared, their faces blurred. The only thing Clint could remember about them was one man had a scar from his left eye to his temple and the other man was missing a finger.

Soon all he saw was dark. He wasn’t sure if it was hours or days when he finally opened his eyes to stare at a bright light. His eyes blinked quickly as they tried to focus. One arm moved to rub his eyes, but something stopped it. His arm was strapped down. Lifting his head he looked down to see himself strapped to a table. His arms spread out and his feet together. The position sent a chill down his spine at the resemblance of Jesus on a cross. That was never a good sign.

Then there were voices. Clint’s head jerked and there was a room on the other side with a large glass window that separated the rooms. There he could see the two he’d vowed to come save stuck in a small room. The look on Natasha’s face screamed horror as she stood at the window with a hand on the glass.

The voices continued and Clint’s head broke eye contact with Natasha to look for them. Finally faces emerged. None of them Clint recognized and they spoke too quickly in Russian for him to understand what was being said. Mentally he cursed himself as he jerked on his arms and legs, knowing full well the position he was in and the unlikeliness of being able to get lose. One man approached Clint and smiled down at him. At first he didn’t recognize him until he noticed the scar.

The man had a needle in his hand along with an IV. Without a single hesitation he stabbed it into Clint’s arm and vein. Taping the tube down to keep it from being pulled out from the jerking motions of the prisoner. Clint stared at the needle as the man stuck it into the tube and pressed the liquid into it. Bright green began oozing down into his vein. When he felt it reach his system, all he felt was a burning sensation. For a moment it died off until it began working further in his veins. It hurt, almost more than anything else he’d felt, but he didn’t call out. Instead he kept himself tense and stared at the ceiling light.


	2. The Drugs

The first days, or at least what Clint could guess, had gone smoothly considering. Maybe it wasn’t smoothly, but at least he was a live. He was exhausted from his body trying to fight off the foreign drugs forced into his system. It made him sick physically. Multiple times he would wake up from the seemingly coma state to throw up. At one point while he was awake he’d turned his head to stare at the window. Sitting there were the two he’d chosen to save, but instead they were forced to watch whatever tortures their masters decided to put on him.

Multiple times the man Clint had decided to dub Doctor Scar due to the scar on his face would come in to inject more drugs. The same reactions would happen. He’d become physically ill, fall into what felt like a coma state, only to wake up miserable once more. Every so often he would be lucky enough to be given just enough water to make his body still function and sometimes some bread. The first few times he’d spit it out, but by the end of the second week Clint was accepting it happily.

It was around the time Clint was becoming cooperative that things took a drastic change. One day it wasn’t the doctor that came in to do the typical drug treatments, but instead another man. There was nothing familiar. His face felt like a mystery as he stared up at it. Nothing jumped out at him. Nothing was special. It was just some man he didn’t know. It was fine until he watched the man pick up a pair of pliers. No one else had touched any of the tools that sat in the room. The only thing they would do was give him his water and food, then pumping him full of drugs again. This time was different. His eyes jerked around the room worried as a ‘nurse’, as he had began referring to in his mind, held his arm and hand still.

Clint jerked hard as he tried to free his hand. “Wh-what are you doing?!” He stuttered. There was a pounding sound and Clint turned to look over at the window. Natasha was at the window her hand moved to point at him, her eyes then herself. He knew instantly at that moment not to break eye contact. Why? He wasn’t sure, but it was the first attempt at communication the trio had, though Bucky sat in a corner of the room in the shadows merely staring out the glass.

For a moment nothing happened then Clint felt the pain. He gasped, his mouth opening wide as he resisted a scream. He didn’t look away from the window. His eyes focused on Natasha as he felt very slowly the man removing each of his fingernails on his hand. He didn’t scream, he didn’t give the Russians anything more than a gasp and tensing up. After it was done, he decided it wasn’t that bad. His hand was sore, but he had one thing to look forward to. The drugs.

Doctor Scar came in the room and Clint was looking forward to being pumped full of whatever liquid it was he felt the need to shoot into his arm. Instead, he held a handful of pills. There had to be at least ten, all of different colors and sizes. “Open up.” Clint shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together as he refused. “Open his mouth.” The nurses came with some kind of tool Clint couldn’t place. They forced it into his mouth and added a tube down his throat. At first he coughed and gagged, but it eventually made it down without an issue. Pouring the pills down and some water, he was forced to take them. The tube was removed and everybody left the room.

Nothing happened and for a minute Clint was relieved that nothing was happening. Then it hit him all the sudden. The room began spinning and it felt like the table he was strapped to was moving. He closed his eyes and began practicing deep breaths as he tried to keep himself calm. He wasn’t sure if it was a trip from the drugs or a side effect in general. Either way, he wasn’t enjoying it. Closing his eyes did nothing to make it better. Instead it made it worse. He opened his eyes and stared at the room. His head jerked to one side, looking at his bloodied finger tips, then rolled to the other side to stare at the window. Staring in to where the two seemed safe was the closest thing to a sanctuary he could find in the room he was stuck in.

The next day, or maybe it was just a few hours later because time felt like it took forever to pass, the same thing happened. The man came in and grabbed the pliers, this time he caught sight of the missing finger but it never processed in his mind as to why it seemed important. He worked on Clint’s other hand, ripping his nails out slowly and one at a time. This time Clint couldn’t stare at the window and hold Natasha’s gaze. This time he had to handle it on his own. Once it was over, the doctor came in with the pills. The steps were repeated, the tube forced down his throat, the pills and a little water added to the mix. This time his IV was filled again. The process of the drugs’ effects continued. This time Clint swore he was seeing people in the room. At one point he picked up a conversation with a man he swore was his father.


	3. Their Point of View

At that point, Clint didn’t know what day it was. He didn’t know how long he’d been stuck in the same room, stuck to the same table without moving. He couldn’t remember the first day they decided to pump his system full of drugs. In fact, he didn’t remember anything but pain and being sick. A few times while he was conscious he’d look over in the room through the glass searching for either Natasha or Bucky. At all times at least one was awake to keep him company in a sense. Never did they turn their backs on him. Someone was there keeping his eye contact to keep him from caving to the torture.

“He’s going to crack soon.” Natasha whispered as she stared out the window while Clint slept. It wasn’t like they had anyone to be quiet from, but the idea that this was the first time in a month that Clint looked.. peaceful.. as he slept made her hope not to disturb him in anyway even though it was sound proof. For a brief moment she tore eyes from the slump of a man who’d once gave her a chance at a different outcome in life to look at the other man who was laying on the bottom bunk of a set of beds.

Bucky laid there motionless and without a word. To the unsuspecting eye one would think he was fast asleep, but Natasha knew better. No one could sleep peacefully after watching someone they considered an ally and a friend being tortured like they had been. “He’s tough. He’ll make it. We just have to keep hoping someone knows something is up with him disappearing.” Though, he wasn’t getting his hopes up. He knew Clint and he knew SHIELD just as well as Natasha did. He knew SHIELD wouldn’t have sent Clint in to get them, not alone. If no one had showed up yet, it was easy to consider the fact that he’d gone behind the agency’s back.

“I don’t think he is. He’s tough. He’s been through a lot, but look at him. His eyes. He’s giving up.” She spoke softly, the fear and sadness obvious. The two were silent for a long time. The Winter Soldier finally moved from the bed and to the glass. “Get some sleep. I’ll watch him.” She was reluctant, but she moved to the bed. Bucky gave her a reassuring hug and kissed her forehead before she laid down. Soon she was in a restless sleep.

Bucky watched the man strapped to the table for a long time. A clock told him it was 3 hours, though he was sure it had been longer by the time Clint stirred. The two made eye contact for a moment, but it broke away immediately when Clint was no longer alone. Quietly he watched as the torture began once again. He couldn’t help the gut wrenching pity he felt as Clint struggled to keep from caving into the pain.  
This time the torture took a dark turn that neither of them had expected. Clint stared as the man missing a finger picked up a pair of clippers. “No..” He said softly as fear rushed over Hawkeye. The nurses came and held him down, though it was almost pointless. Clint had no energy left from previous fighting. The man held tightly to one of Clint’s fingers and placed it in the clippers. Bucky smacked the glass and managed to catch Clint’s attention. He mouthed slowly ‘Look at me’. Then came the clip. This time was different. Clint screamed out in pain, unable to keep it in.

The finger fell from the middle knuckle. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to jerk his legs and arm without any luck. It was hard to watch for Bucky. This whole time Clint had managed to not make a sound and now he was screaming as the man missing his finger took off Clint’s one at a time. By the time he was done with the first hand, Natasha had woken up. She stared up at Bucky. The man was a sheet of white she’d never seen before.

“What are they doing?” She asked reluctantly. Bucky swallowed hard, not breaking eye contact with Clint until the man moved to his other hand. Finally he looked away, unable to watch anymore. He looked at Natasha, tears stinging at his eyes. “He’s-” For a moment Bucky couldn’t say anything. He swallowed hard and gathered himself quickly when she stood to see herself. “Don’t. They’re taking his fingers.” Horror rushed over her face at the words. “They can’t.” She said softly, but she knew without looking how true it had to be.

The two both knew the reason behind it. The Russians weren’t taking his full fingers, just to the middle knuckle. It was to prove a point. They knew who Clint Barton was. They knew he was a master marksman. What’s an archer without his fingers?

Natasha sat on the bed and Bucky stared out the glass in silence as the act was finished. The doctor came in and pumped Clint full of drugs once more. This time he managed to do a half-assed job at stopping the bleeding on Clint’s hands. After he was gone, Clint stared at the glass emotionless as the pain and the effects began taking work once more. His pupils grew wide and tears strung down his face as he kept eye contact with Bucky. The Winter Soldier pressed a hand against the glass and slowly mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ though he wasn’t sure Clint was processing what was going on around him anymore.


	4. A Little Too Late

At some point Clint managed to get sleep between the torture and the drugs. His body was exhausted. He was exhausted. He wasn’t sure how much more he could handle after losing his fingers. They gave him a day to re-cooperate, to gather some of his strength back. What they didn’t know was the fact after the lose of his fingers, his will to keep fighting had disappeared. What was the point after that had been done? What good was a marksman and an archer once you lost the most important part?

Eventually he woke up, but the pain was still there. There was no pain killers. It was all fresh, sore and tender. Clint didn’t move as he stared at the glass. He could see Natasha turn to Bucky and say something. Normally he was excellent at reading lips, but he didn’t care anymore. He stared blankly at her, tears still rolling out of his eyes and his mouth slightly open. His breathing was short gasps. Clint Barton knew he wasn’t going to make it through much more of it.

By the look on Natasha and Bucky’s faces, they knew it too. Natasha’s eyes were red from obvious crying. She couldn’t stand to see a man she’d grown so close to, a man who’d risked his life to save her’s, fall this far. “He’s not going to make it….” She said softly to Bucky. He said nothing in return. He knew it was true. Hawkeye was a fighter and pushed himself to his limits, but there was only so much more he could take. Exhaustion was obvious by the large dark circles around his eyes. “He’s going through all of this for us. They don’t even want anything from him. They aren’t trying to break him like they did us. They’re just making us watch for our punishment for escaping.”

“I know. He deserves better than this.” He said softly as they watched a man they’d once saw only confidence in. Clint didn’t even react when the doctor walked in. The doctor loaded the IV up with more of the drugs and didn’t bother to check the bandages. The Russians knew Clint was broke. They knew it was only a matter of time until he gave up completely. What they didn’t know was Clint had already given up. There was nothing else for him. They’d taken away the only thing he was good at, the only thing he’d pushed himself through in his life in the circus and with the Avengers.

The drugs worked their way through his system and he stared blankly at the glass. He wasn’t even looking at the two in the room anymore. He was staring through them at this point. “Natalia… I think..” Bucky didn’t finish his words. Natasha knew exactly what he meant. The two stared at Clint as he started to go. Natasha slammed her hands against the window and yelled. “No! He can’t! He can still make it..” She sobbed to herself and cursed. Bucky quietly counted the breaths until he noticed Clint’s chest not moving anymore. For the next four hours neither of them moved. They stood at the window and stared at the shell that once held life.  
The doctor walked in to check on Clint, but found nothing of importance. The man smirked to himself before looking at the two in the room before turning and walking out of the room, leaving Clint’s body there.  
3 months had passed. Tony didn’t hear from Clint again. SHIELD had been searching for him, digging deep into every system they could hack with no luck. When the last day of the 3 months came, Stark did as he promised. He entered Clint’s apartment to find a letter sitting on the table with Tony Stark written on it.

Tony,  
If you are reading this I failed. I didn’t make it back. I can’t tell you what happened to me because I don’t know. I will tell you this. Bucky and Natasha were taken. SHIELD did nothing. SHIELD wouldn’t assemble the Avengers to go after them. I can’t leave them with the Russians. I went against protocol and went for them myself. I know I could have asked you, Bruce or even Steve for help, but I owe it to them. I owe it to both of them to save them. If I haven’t returned by now, something happened. Find them. Save them. That’s all I want. Bring them home safe.  
-Clinton Francis Barton

Tony held the letter for a long time as realization set in. He knew what had happened now. Bucky and Natasha weren’t on a mission, they were captives. Deep down in his gut, he knew Clint had failed his mission. Without bothering with checking on anything else in the house, Tony left the apartment immediately. Once he was out the door, his cell phone was out dialing Steve Rogers to give him the news that SHIELD was hiding from them.


End file.
